


Remnants Of The Past.

by Alexandria_Antoinette



Series: Poor Boy. [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Canon-Typical Violence, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Deaf Character, Deaf Jason Todd, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Alive, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason and Tim are friends now, Past Torture, Resurrected Jason Todd, Tim Drake is Red Robin, jason is hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-18 00:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexandria_Antoinette/pseuds/Alexandria_Antoinette
Summary: Not everything from the explosion was wiped away with the Pit. Jason still had the scars from the coroners exam, certain bumps and divots in his skin from shrapnel that was too deep into his tissue to heal. Not everything can be forgotten, not everything can be erased.





	Remnants Of The Past.

**Author's Note:**

> "Poor, Poor little boy. Daddy-Bat's forgot all about you, didn't he? Don't worry, I've got all night to pay attention to you."

_The warehouse was dark. His wrists were swollen already, probably shattered. His ankles didn't seem any better. Dark. Wet. Moldy._

_"What, you're not passing out already? We're just getting started!" A gravely voice; a man-no, a monster was behind him. A foot placed itself on his side and flipped him from his protective huddle in his stomach to lay on his back. White face, bloody smile, a crow-bar swinging down for his ribs- once, twice._

_"Your a lot more fun to play with than the other one. Wonder where bat's hid him. Did he eat him? Gobble him up?"_

_A cackle right in his ears, ringing. Another blow to the stomach._

_The next one to his arm, that had lifted itself up on instinct to hide his face._

_So many times, they blurred together. Blow, kick, kick. The crow bar landed on his stomach one last time, blood flooding his mouth like a river past a broken, cracked dam._

_"Well, I've got to go. I think Batsy is closing in, and I'd rather not deal with your father when he's mad."_

_Purple pants, black boots shining with his blood- is that his blood? Where did that come from?_

_Jason watched the psycho shrug a large coat on and open the door, stepping out and most likely locking the door behind him._

_A wiggle, pulling himself to the door to test the handle. Locked. A beep behind him, turning to look._

_3....2....1..._

_His ears were ringing, or maybe that was the sound of his brains finally being blown from his skull-_

Jason was coated in sweat by the time he shot awake, gasping. His sheets were soaked and his skin felt clammy and cold, pale. Kicking the soiled blanket from his skin, he sat up, head in his hand as he lent forward slightly to dry-heave. His head hurt like a bitch.

A look towards the clock showed it was almost five AM; might as well just get up and head for an early shower. He didn't have anything planned for today besides his human trafficking bust.

Jason stepped into the shower and contemplated how the night might go; lord help him if batman ended up showing up. Jason snorted at the thought, grabbing his shampoo and scrubbing the sweat from the short strands, scrubbing behind his ears and shit. 

By the time he stepped out, his fingers were wrinkled and pruned up.

He toweled his hair off violently for a moment before wrapping his waist in the towel and grabbing his hearing-aids, hooking them behind each ear in a practiced ease.

The sudden humming of the speaker in his ear was a comfort as he walked around and dressed himself, the muted sound of his shirt dragging over his aids was almost as routine as his coffee and news.

He had seated himself on the worn couch, TV on full blast and still so low, subtitles so slow and horribly timed that they were still writing out the commercial that had ended fifteen seconds ago-and his phone was going off.

The flash of his notification was always slightly irritating- but that's kinda the point, isn't it? He flipped his phone over and turned the screen on, watching the words file themselves across the screen.

**"Hood, you there?"**

"What's up?" The vibrations of his words shot through his chest, and he probably should have warmed up because his tongue was still heavy with sleep and his voice probably sounded like shit.

**"I've got another lead on Coney's ring. {Unintelligible} and Mercury's out of the game now, so they gave over a handful of their {Unintelligible}. You willing to visit or am I going to you?"**

Thank the Lord Timmy was so considerate. Jason still felt a shot of guilt every time they had to meet up in some shitty coffee shop or bar. The thought of the cave still sent a shiver of sadness down his spine, but he knew they had better access to files and reports there, but-

"Yeah man, I'll meet you there. Give me half an hour."

God he hadn't seen anyone but Timmy and Alfred since he was like fifteen. 

**"Gotcha- Iv'e got everything written out and alphabetized for you-"** Of course he does- **"And how's the new phone working for you? Is it {Unintelligible} everything clearly?"**

"Baby bird I couldn't have asked for anything better; it's working smooth as butter, missing a few words here and there, but I can peace it together.." 

**"Great to hear, hood. I'll see you soon, Out."**

Jason set the phone to the side and stood to get changed; can't exactly show up to the cave in anything but your finest gear, right? 

The hood was always a little tighter when he wears the aids, and the new attachments Timmy made allowed for everything spoken through a comm that connects itself to his frequency flits across his vision for a split second, a little corner dedicated to the action. His armor was freshly cleaned and smelled like ammonia and lemons. The bikes' rumble was a welcome feeling in his chest and legs as he sped down the streets, the muted sound of static and a heavy motor wonderful background noise as Jason prepared himself for the next few hours of torture.

He flew through the garage opening, thankful Alfred kept his activation code just in case. The garage was empty, thank god; Jason wasn't exactly ready to deal with batman just yet. He strutted through the dim entry way and towards the bright light of the bat-computer, where a smaller frame was sitting, fingers a blur as they typed away. 

"What, no hello?" 

The person jumped and spun in the chair, tense before relaxing and shaking is head with a silent laugh.

"Very funny."

Timmy stood to give Jason a hug, small arms wrapped around a thick waist for a moment before stepping back and smiling. 

"Alfred.....ame..own with...inks and......some food earlier. ...gry?"

Jason forgot to turn the translator on. 

"Yeah man, I'm down for some snacks and shit."

He flicked the microphone on and watched Tim's previous sentence dance across the small screen in the corner of his eye before dissipating; another sentence following it.

**"Master Jason, it truly is a {Unintelligible} to see you again."**

Jason turned and removed the hood in one movement to see Alfred standing behind him, a platter of teas in one hand and the other pushing a cart of food. 

"Alfred!" Jason would have forgotten all about the image of tall dark and handsome in a split second to run an hug the man, but then he'd endanger the food and drinks. 

Alfred stepped forward and set the platter of tea down, pushing one into Jason's hand and the other set in-front of Tim, who had turned around again to add another row of words to his report.

"Where's the bat then?" Jason asked around his mug, the smell of honey, lemon, and cinnamon filling his nose.

"Ah, yes. Master bru..and master Damian are curren...ly out. They..ill return..oon." 

Great, Jason's gonna have to deal with Batman and Bat-brat at the same time. Wonderful.

"And the original Brat-Wonder? Is he here?"

Alfred nodded and gestured to the stairs.

Jason rolled his eyes and let his shoulders sag for a moment before turning and narrowing his eyes to Tim. 

"I ...ouldn't ...fford to...eet up...omewhere but...ere. Too ...portant."

Jason waved his hand in the air, like he was swatting a fly away, "Yeah Yeah, I get it, work and shit. I just don't...wanna explain the-"

Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly. 

Tim waved him over to the reports, and they lost themselves in work and reviews; lining up the schedules that were given and triple-checking the time lines.

Tim suddenly tensing up next to him was the first sign. The second was the rumble in Jason's chest from something heavy and deep running. The third was the deep voice vibrating in his ear from his aids. The forth was the words flitting across his screen- **"Jason."**

That was probably phrased as a question. Maybe an accusation. What ever it was, Jason was having none of it. Turning is head slightly, he saw the dark brooding figure of batman lurking over him.

"Ah, oh no; the batman has caught me. What ever shall I do, he exclaims." Jason's voice was hopefully flat, every word exaggerated and stressed to ensure their clarity. 

**"What are you doing here?"** Bruce's voice was still heavy in his ear, the words vibrating and muted.

"Oh, hello to you too; no don't worry, I've been doing fine. My day's been great, how about yours?"

Tim nudged his side with his elbow half-way through, but Jason ignored him. Damian, still standing next to Bruce, made some noise in the back of his throat that only came through his microphone as **{Unintelligible}.**

**"Master Jason and Timothy have been {Unintelligible} on a human trafficking case for these past three days. Master Jason only stopped by to compare notes with the ones Master Timothy acquired late last night."**

Lord bless Alfred for his save.

**"I didn't approve of this."**

Jason snorted once the words appeared, adding- "I didn't approve of a crow bar to the face, but hey; you get used to it."

Jason could _feel_ Tim gasp next to him, the sudden inhale loud enough for his microphone to catch it. 

Jason watched Bruce's shoulders shoot up in a sudden tensing of the muscles, and Alfred hung his head ever so slightly.

**"Master Bruce, Master Jason was needed to {Unintelligible} Timothy in solving this case. I implore you to allow him."**

"Don't worry Alfred; I'm leaving soon. We'll just compose the meetings into one report and I'll be on my merry way."

Bruce stepped forward threateningly, and opened his mouth-

"Nope, no I'm not gonna listen."

Jason reached up and removed his hood, shaking his head out and removing the strands that were plastered to his forehead. Next to him, Tim tensed up even more, though he didn't say anything. Maybe.

Bruce stopped, stood stock still for a moment before he opened his mouth again, and angry twist to the edges of his lips. Jason just turned around and looked through the final composition of their report.

"Add the two o'clock meeting." He mumbled into Tim's ear; god he could feel the nasality of his speech and it was infuriating.

Tim typed the meeting into the schedule; two more to go and they'll be done.

"...ason...lese..ook at...e." Jason rolled his eyes and turned his head, startling slightly at how close Bruce had gotten. He narrowed his eyes and turned his head back around to look at the screen again, but Tim's hand on his wrist stopped him.

Tim looked him in the eye, and spoke slowly. 

"You..ant... ide it ...nymore." Tim jerked his head to Bruce again, who was now joind by-

"Oh my god, it's a full house now! Wow, haven't seen half of you guys up close since I was like fifteen."

Dick flinched from his perch next to Bruce, and even Damian looked slightly uncomfortable. 

"...ason...ook I-"

"Nope, nope not happening. I'm not talking to any of you, I'm especially not _listening_ to any of you." Tim probably snorted at that. To exaggerate his point, Jason reached up and removed his aids, embracing the sudden oppressing silence that met him. No humming, no static; it was like someone stuffed his head full of concrete lined cotton.

"Text me the list later, Timmy. I've got some things to do." This time, he _knew_ exactly what he sounded like; the vibrations of his voice were traveling more through his nose than his mouth, his speech muddled with the lack of his own vibrations through the speaker in his aids.

Jason had never felt better than when he sat himself on the bike and left in a flurry of exhaust and rubber.

Back at home, Jason opened his phone to thirty-seven different texts from two different numbers, and one from Timmy. A message, attached to the report.

_"Come back for dinner next week- Alfred's treat."_


End file.
